


Stepford, Connecticut

by Blue_Iris



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Betas, Birth Control, Consent, F/F, F/M, Female Alphas, Female Omegas, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omegaverse, Other, Seriously everything is consensual, Sexual Agency, Sexual Content, Sexually Active Omegas, Sexually Active Omegas who have no mate, Slut Shaming, Trying for something, because I don't see them in stories enough, but yeah, not sure if I'm succeeding, suppressants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:32:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2191983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Iris/pseuds/Blue_Iris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You ever notice how no one ever seems to talk about the Omegas that go through relationships, even have sex, but don't mate with their partners? They have to exist on some level, because society is just not <i>that</i> pristine about sexuality ("Wait until you meet your mate, go into heat, and have lots and lots of babies!"), even if it acts that way. How are such Omegas perceived?</p>
<p>Why is it no one seems to talk about Female Alphas, and their desires? Or Betas, do they get any representation at all?</p>
<p>Is it possible for an Alpha to be caught between two Omegas—one a childhood friend and the other being a relatively new friend with a bad reputation, but still manages to spin the Alpha's head whenever they meet up (even if he tries to ignore the feeling)?</p>
<p>Can an Omega survive through heartache and abandonment? Or are they really as "fragile" as society has taught?</p>
<p>Just some things Rosa Kirkland finds herself thinking about during her senior year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stepford, Connecticut

It’s a usual Monday morning in Stepford, Connecticut, at least for one Rosa Kirkland.

She wakes up when her alarm blares out The Clash’s “Koka Kola” at about six, then curls back under the covers after she turns it off. About fifteen minutes later, Timo stomps into the room and swipes the blanket off Rosa, making her cringe at the cool air and the sun shining down on her face.

Rosa sits up and glares at Timo, who somehow manages to look authoritative with his pretty face and his hands on his hips. Timo glares back and points at the uniform that had been thrown onto Rosa’s armchair the night before. Rosa looks at the uniform, blinks, and then sighs. When she gets up and turns around to start getting dressed, Timo smiles and walks out of the room.

After putting on the red plaid skirt, black knee-highs, an un-tucked white button up, and a loose black tie, Rosa rakes a hand through her loose and unruly reddish-blond hair a few times. After a few minutes of this, she still looks like she’s just gotten out of bed, but at least her hair isn’t as fluffy. Rosa nods in approval, grabs her bag and black leather jacket, and then goes downstairs to eat breakfast.

In the kitchen, Berwald is preparing breakfast in a light blue apron while Timo is attempting to feed a still small Peter, who seems just a little too excited, even for a toddler. When Rosa enters, Berwald turns and nods at her.

“I’ve already put out some scrambled eggs with cheese and toast,” he tells her, sending a pointed look at a plate full of food. “Make sure to eat it all.”

Rosa nods back and goes to sit where her plate is. She picks up her fork, but hesitates for a few moments. It isn’t that she isn’t hungry. Even after nearly a year of living here, Rosa still feels strange in this new house, with these people she’s supposed to call family. Berwald and Timo haven’t mistreated her or her baby brother, but Rosa still can’t help but wonder if the situation is just too good to be true.

Even so, Rosa takes a bite of her breakfast and her hollow stomach purrs as she tastes it. At least they can cook.

By the time it’s seven, Rosa is finished and about ready to walk towards her bus to Hell. Just before she walks out the door, Timo calls back to her.

“Rosa, have you taken your pills?”

She blinks at the question, and then curses under breath. She trudges back to the kitchen and opens a cabinet to find a green packet full of three weeks’ worth of white pills and one week of brown pills. She pops out one white pill, and then dry swallows it, sending Timo a dry look.

“Happy?”

“Much.” Timo beams a little too proudly. Then his brown eyes soften, his demeanor becoming more serious. “I know that this might be hell for you, but we just want you to be careful. It’s only about a week away, you know. We don’t want things getting too...wild.”

Rosa shrugs and walks towards the door again. “I’ll likely be home by the time it happens anyway, so you shouldn’t worry so much.”

 _Easier said than done_ , Timo thinks as he watches her leave. “Have a good time at school!”

“School, school!” Peter adds, grinning.

Before opening the door, Rosa sends them all a wave without looking back.

* * *

The bus ride to school is relatively tolerable until it actually arrives at the school. Despite how much she wants to skip and spend the rest of the day at the park, Rosa gets off the bus along with some other students and proceeds towards World Academy. The further she walks towards it however, the more the other students start to notice.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” one of the more prim looking girls says with a scowl.

“Looks like the bitch’s got a hangover again.”

“Think she fucked anyone?”

“Heh, probably. I heard she’s been with at least thirty guys.”

“Fucking whore,” a thin, somewhat effeminate boy hisses as she passes.

“Mmm,” a taller boy with broader shoulders and solid muscles smirks when he sees her, then licks his lips. “Hey baby, where you goin’? There’s still time before the bell rings. Why don’t you spend it with me and my friends. We’ll make it worth your while!”

As he and his group of friends laugh, Rosa moves her legs faster to get away from them and everyone else as soon as possible. She really doesn’t need this today.

“Oh, the little whore Omega doesn’t wanna play,” a tall, rather masculine girl smirks.

Rosa clenches her fist in her jacket, but doesn’t stop walking. She wants to turn around and punch or kick the smirks off those damned Alphas’ faces, like she usually would—but the last time she did that, she not only got detention for the next month, Timo was called in and yelled at by the principal. Even now, some people in town sneer at Timo and Berwald, as if it’s their fault that they’re fostering an Omega who is just “wrong.” People were already giving them trouble over one of them being sterile.

Rosa manages to get to her locker and open it wide enough to hide her furious expression from the rest of the school.

Despite being a normal and relatively healthy Omega in the physiological sense, Rosa Kirkland is no stranger to the names “slut” and “whore,” as well as the stares she gets. Most people just have to take one look at her dyed hair, her short skirts and fishnet stockings (which she wears outside of school), and they just “know.” Taking the time to smell her and find the faint scents of different Alphas and even some Betas that she’d been with (but never bonded) just makes it more obvious.

Needless to say, in this small town high school, Rosa is well aware that her presence raises many eyebrows and causes many to sneer at her (especially other, more “proper” Omegas).

However, Rosa Kirkland is also well aware of just how little of a shit she gives about World Academy and its uptight, backward students and faculty—well, unless it’s...

A large arm wraps around her neck and someone blows the back of her ear. “And how is my little strumpet this morning?”

Rosa blushes bright red and elbows the culprit in the stomach, who laughs and steps back, letting go of her. She turns around and glares up at a tall and muscular, dirty blonde, blue eyed boy wearing a bomber jacket over his uniform—consisting of blue plaid pants, a white shirt, blue tie, and a beige sweater—and grinning so wide it almost hurts to look at.

“Jones, you bastard!” She nearly screeches. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Alfred laughs. “Sorry, Rosie. Just wanted to make my entrance.”

“Tch, some entrance. Shit, if I had a penny every time you shoved your pig head into my space—hold on.” Rosa pauses, narrowing her eyes up at Alfred. “Did you just call me a strumpet?”

“Yes, yes, I did,” he nods, making his shoulders straight and smiling with pride. “I’m brushing up on my Shakespeare for the big monologue thingie on Friday. How’d I do?”

“Horrible, but then that’s to be expected,” Rosa adds with a smirk that makes her face look more devious than delicate. “You wouldn’t know Shakespeare even if he tackled you and gave you worse brain damage than you usually get.”

Alfred flushes a little, his frown looking more like a pout. “I do _not_ get brain damage! Hell, most of the time, I’m damaging the other players!”

“Uh-huh.” Bored with the familiar answer, Rosa starts gathering the books she needs for her first four periods.

“And I totally know Shakespeare. In fact, I’ve been improving in Einhorn’s class ever since we started having the Shakespeare unit. I probably got a higher grade than you right now, so HA!”

Alfred smirks, closing his eyes, crossing his arms, and leaning against the locker like he was king of the world—which is arguably true, if the worship he gets from the rest of the school is anything to go by.

“Did you read the scenes for today?”

“...The scenes?”

“For _Titus Andronicus_. We’re at the part when Titus kills Demetrius and Chiron.”

“Oh! Right, right. Yeah, totally read it. Uh-huh.” A beat. “But, just in case, remind me exactly what happened?”

Rosa stares up at Alfred for a few moments, barely blinking. Then, she sighs and turns to shut her locker.

“You didn’t read it at all, did you?”

Alfred chuckles a bit, sounding nervous.

“ _Alfred_.”

“Hey, I meant to!” He says, trying to look innocent. “But I was...busy.”

Rosa raises an eyebrow. “Busy with what?”

Again, Alfred chuckles nervously before suddenly turning red and eyeing a spot behind her. Rosa turns around and immediately spots an Omega boy with light blonde hair, violet eyes, and square rim glasses gathering books and putting them in his black backpack. Though his body looks rather plain as far as anyone can see—he always wears a red hoodie that looks too big on him—there’s a prettiness to him that is almost muted, but still magnetizing.

Unlike many of the Omegas Rosa has encountered in the school, Matthew Williams is one of the few that are genuinely sweet and kind—at least, when he isn’t being ignored by everyone. He’s even spoken a kind word or two to her on occasion, though Rosa knows that she makes him feel awkward.

She turns to look at Alfred, sees that he’s still staring at Matt with a dreamy expression, and she crosses her arms. “So, I guess you finally got that date you’ve been asking for?”

Alfred shrugs, his expression never wavering. “Sort of. We hung out at the arcade on Saturday and went out to eat afterwards, but it wasn’t a date-date, you know. Still, it was awesome,” he gushes, hearts practically in his eyes.

Feeling a little ill, Rosa turns away from him and finds herself frowning.

“Damn, Mattie looks so beautiful today,” Alfred sighs.

“...He looks a little like you, you know.”

“Tch, no he doesn’t.”

“Oh, yes he does. I still suspect that you two are long lost brothers or some shit.”

“Well, I guess you’re going to have to eat your words, Kirkland, ‘cause we ain’t,” he says, crossing his arms. “I know, I checked.”

Despite herself, Rosa laughs hard enough to bloom a light flush on her cheeks. “Fuck, Alfred, you are such a git.”

Alfred goes red, and he takes his gaze off Mattie to glare down at her and stick his tongue out. Rosa smirks back at him and opens her mouth to respond when—

“Mon Dieu, Kirkland,” Marianne Bonnefoy’s voice calls across the hall, smooth as warm velvet dripping with poison. Rosa clenches her hands into fists and turns to send the tall blonde French girl a steady, but cold stare.

Marianne smirks and crosses her arms under her ample breasts. ( _Ugh._ ) On either side of her are two boys—an Alpha by the name of Gilbert Beilschmidt and a Beta named Antonio Carriedo—who are both wearing a haughty smirk. (Well, more Gilbert, really.)

“I had no idea that you were so cruel as to steal our school’s beloved Alpha away from the rest of us, especially the poor Omegas.” She catches the eye of one of said Omegas, an adorable girl with dark skin and brown hair pulled into pig tails, and she winks, invoking a blush from the girl. Then Marianne looks back at Rosa, her dark blue eyes driving into her. “You truly are a shameless little whore, aren’t you?”

Rosa flushes with anger and steps forward, fists ready to bash the bloody frog’s face in (no matter how much taller and stronger she is), but then Alfred gently pulls her arm back until she’s nearly behind him.

“Oh, fuck off, Bonnefoy,” Alfred nearly growls. “You’re just bitching because Rosa knows she’s too good for the likes of you anyway. How many times have you tried and failed to get with her again, just this month alone? Shit, talk about desperate,” he finishes with a little smirk.

Marianne flushes, but quickly hides it by setting her mouth into a challenging snarl. Alfred answers the challenge by baring his own teeth back at her, his shoulders tense and his body bracing for a fight. The tension from the two Alphas soon becomes so thick and palpable that it starts coming off them in waves. Soon, the scent of their hostility becomes so potent that everyone in the hall stops and stares at them, almost eager to see a fight break out.

Despite the situation, Rosa finds herself staring at Alfred, who has pulled her close in his protective stance, and she feels her cheeks burn. Scowling, she rubs at her bright red face; clearly, it’s the heat in the school. Doesn’t this school know how much Omegas are affected by even the smallest changes in temperature? Honestly.

Before any fight could start between the Alphas, water is sprayed on their faces, as if they were dogs.

“Hey!” Alfred cringes.

“Merde!” Marianne growls, then turns to glare at the culprit.

Elizaveta just smirks, the spray bottle still in her hand. “I think that’s enough out of the two of you, hmm?”

The two glares she receives don’t waver, but Elizaveta doesn’t pay them any mind. Neither would dare to fight her anyway; not only would she kick their asses to kingdom come, but she is also the Vice President on the Student Council. Getting into a fight with her would just cause more trouble than she’s worth.

After a few moments of glaring, Marianne scoffs and turns to Gilbert and Antonio. “Come along, mon freres. We don’t need this.”

She gives Rosa and Alfred a cool glare before flipping her hair and proceeding down the hall with a straight and almost noble looking posture. Gilbert walks alongside her, his smirk wide enough to show his rather sharp looking canines.

“Ooh, feeling burned again, mademoiselle?” Gil asks before letting out a loud laugh.

“Gil, shut up or I will throw you,” is the last thing Rosa hears from Marianne, for now at least.

Before he starts following his friends, Antonio casts Rosa an apologetic smile and an awkward shrug. Rosa shrugs back and watches as he runs over to catch up with his friends.

Elizaveta lets out a sigh and scratches the back of her head. _That Bad Touch Trio just causes more trouble all the time_ , she thinks to herself. When her light green eyes fall on Rosa, she brightens and walks over to her with arms stretched outward, not caring when she sees Alfred twitch in irritation.

With wide eyes, Rosa attempts to back away but is quickly embraced, her head nearly buried in the Alpha’s ample bosom.

“Ah, my lovely little Rose,” Elizaveta gushes almost lovingly. “It is always such a joy to see you.”

“The sentiment is not mutual, I assure you,” Rosa groans as she twists her body around in the embrace, blushing when she finds her back being squeezed to the taller girl’s front. “Get off, Hedervary!”

Elizaveta only smiles and nuzzles into the irate Omega’s hair, a light blush on her cheeks. “Such a lovely scent...”

“Bloody fuck, woman, I will bite off your hands if you even—”

“Liz, let her go,” Alfred interjects with a growl.

Elizaveta takes notice of his stance, the face that his scent is still retaining that hostility, the need to protect, and she smiles to herself. Then she lets go of Rosa and steps back, sending him a playful wink.

“I was only playing, Alfred. No need to get so twitchy. Besides, Rosa and I are walking to the same class anyway.”

Alfred narrows his eyes, then shifts his gaze over to his friend, a silent question in his eyes. Rosa takes notice of the heat in his gaze and feels her throat dry, even if it’s not the sort of “heat” she wants from him. She sighs and crosses her arms.

“It’s fine, Al,” she says. “The real problem left anyway.”

Though his instincts tell him to still be wary of Elizaveta, Alfred nods and takes a few deep breaths to relax. Then he checks his watch, his eyes widening.

“Ah, shit, I’m late.” Alfred looks at Rosa. “I’ll see you in Einhorn’s, okay Rosa? Oh, and I’ll meet you by my car after school.”

Rosa raises an eyebrow. “We’re not going to McDonald’s, are we?”

He laughs. “As awesome as that would be, I know how much you’d bitch, so no.” At her confused look, Alfred chuckles and winks. “Trust me, it’s a surprise.”

Rosa blushes at the look, then turns away from him with a scowl. “Whatever.”

Despite her response, Alfred grins and proceeds to run for his class, oblivious to how his friend watches him with a rather warm look from the corner of her eye.

“He’s rather nice,” Elizaveta says.

Rosa shrugs and shoulders her backpack. They should start for their Chemistry class now. “If you like that sort, I suppose.”

“He’s really nice to you.”

“So?”

“ _So_ , I think he might have a thing for you.”

“Now I know you’re delusional,” she replies, already walking away.

“Oh, come on.” Elizaveta goes after her, her cheeks flushed and her smile wide. “He hangs out with you after school, even drives you home occasionally, is extremely protective over you—”

“He’s protective over a lot of his friends, that doesn’t—!”

“He’s also really possessive of you too, and I don’t think he even realizes it, which I think is just _adorable_.”

“Th-that doesn’t mean a thing either—!”

“And you’re totally into him, I can tell. You don’t really talk to anyone else besides me and maybe Chiara, but with Alfred it’s special and—”

Finally Rosa turns around and snaps her hand over Elizaveta’s mouth, her eyes narrowed into a sharp glare. “Whatever I feel about him or whatever he might feel about me doesn’t matter, because he already likes someone else!”

Elizaveta glares back and removes the hand from her mouth. “So?”

Rosa blinks and looks to the side, her mind going back to that pretty blonde Omega with the too big hoodie, a big heart, and a beautiful smile that has obliviously captured nearly every Alpha in World Academy—including Alfred.

She knows how this story will go, how all these stories go. The Alpha chases the perfect and sickeningly pure Omega; the Omega may resist on some level, but will always end up feeling the same; they court until the first heat comes, and then they fully consummate their relationship with the bonding ceremony; then it’s babies ever after. But there are so many stories that people don’t write or talk about.

No one really talks about the overlooked Betas; no one talks about the female Alphas; and no one talks about the Omegas who don’t follow the mold of being all virginal and submissive. No one talks about the Omegas who don’t follow the domestic roles expected of them. No one will even acknowledge that such Omegas exist. Those who do write about these Omegas often put them in a negative light, especially in the case of those who are rather promiscuous. As for the Omegas who refuse to follow the expected roles, a writer will have them magically “accept their fate in society” by having the Alpha love interest shove their cock inside the Omega, until he/she forgets his/her goals beyond getting married, bonded, and having children.

Rosa knows how this story will go, how whatever she feels for Alfred will amount to nothing.

“So, that person is likely better for him anyway,” she says. “Better than me.”

Elizaveta frowns at that, her eyes softening with a sadness that she knows also, especially when thoughts of a certain bespectacled Omega boy flood her mind.

Then she puts on a smile and puts an arm around Rosa, and they start walking again. “Let’s talk about something else then. I checked out that show you wanted me to look at.”

“Orphan Black?”

“Yeah!”

“How did you find it?”

“ _Awesome._ Watched the whole first series and prepping for the premiere of the second as we speak.”

“‘Prepping’?”

“Yeah, I wanna have a party before the new series comes out. One where there will be food, alcohol, and ten episodes of sexy ladies forming a clone club and going up against a eugenics establishment.”

Rosa smirks. “Much merry-making then?”

“Fuck yeah. Wanna join?”

“...I’ll think about it.”

Rosa listens to her friend even after they’ve reached their class and begun waiting for their teacher to show up. After a while, she props her chin on her hand and just stares out the window in silence. Yes, a normal Monday indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> I still have complicated feelings about Omegaverse stories. I guess this is my way of expressing them.


End file.
